Like Clockwork
by Jayde Kara
Summary: Barbara Gordon, Senior Student Librarian at Gotham University has a few problems. Like her best friend setting her up on dates with guys that she'd rather avoid, like playboy Dick Grayson, ward of Bruce Wayne, the man who's granted her a full-ride scholarship to GU. Or like having said ward trying to go out with her. Or having said ward's best friends spy on her during her work. AU


**Hi everybody! I'm seriously procrastinating on my homework here! UGH! I have 5 AP courses so please excuse me if I take a while with uploads sometimes. Anyways this is going to be a multi chapter fic, and my other fanfiction will be updated after an almost year long hiatus, but I digress. This is going to be a DickxBabs fic with most likely Spitfire and all other canon couples of Young Justice(that I like I mean not a fan of current Invasion canon Miss MartianXLagaan). So enjoy, follow, favorite, review, and read. All are greatly appreciated.**

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Not many Gotham University students notice, but the West Wing library on campus was designed to resemble a grandfather clock. Supposedly it's supposed to symbolize the wisdom that can be obtained by sifting through the many tomes hidden within the depths.

The large labyrinth we call "The Archives" are the shelves of books in the rectangular body, while the study tables and checkout counters are located at the face of the clock.

From 11 o'clock to 1 o'clock the entrances lie, from 2 o'clock to 4 o'clock there are the checkout counters, 4 o'clock to 5 o'clock are the hold shelves and the "New Arrivals/Releases and Popular Reads" shelves 5 o'clock to 7 o'clock are the entrance to the archives, 7 o'clock to 10 o'clock are the study tables, and 10 o'clock to 11 o'clock are the bathrooms(because we gotta go somewhere other than the bushes).

It's like the architect knew the clockwork workday of the typical senior work-study librarian a.k.a. me a.k.a. Barbara Gordon a.k.a. daughter of the Commish a.k.a. the student on a Wayne scholarship a.k.a. blah blah blah etcetera etcetera etcetera.

Because a workday at the library for Barbara Gordon typically resembles the following…

6:00am Open up the library and check in all returns

7:00am Sort books for shelving

8:00am Cover and catalog new books

11:00am Secretly eat a sandwich behind the help desk computer monitor

1:00pm Check in and sort books

3:00pm Secretly snack on some cheese munchies, ice cream, and whatever else is in the mini-fridge under the checkout counter, while, again, secretly watching some Korean dramas

5:00pm Let the newbie junior work-study librarian group take over for a bit, while you enjoy the "outside world"

8:00pm Assess the damage of said newbie junior work-study librarian group's mistakes

9:00pm Direct the said newbies to clean up the damage while you, as their senior, supervise

10:00pm Direct newbies to return to their dorms, while you shelve the previously sorted books as you realize that you totally could've made your juniors do it for you. Allow 15 seconds for regret then return to your shelving.

11:00pm Return to you dorms on your bicycle(because you're still saving up for a motorcycle, while still convincing your over protective father that a motor vehicle closely resembling a bicycle is completely safe and should therefore possess one), gripping the handlebars with a cell phone in one hand (and your thumb on speed dial for the Commissioner of Gotham P.D.) and the other holding a seemingly innocent, school approved taser capable of making Bane cry for his mother.

That is, until a certain black haired, but blue-eyed, boy wonder had to go screw everything up, but alas that is later on in this tale.

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West Wing of Gotham University, Library

Saturday, 8:07 EST

Fold.

Tape.

Tape.

Flip.

"He is so totally staring at you."

Fold.

Tape.

Tape.

"He doesn't look half bad. Y'know, if you squint your eyes a bit, you can hardly notice how he is so obviously stalking you."

That one earns her a stern glance, but only a quick one.

Cover.

Open.

Tape.

Tape.

"Maybe he's trying to tempt you by making you think that he's a bookworm. Maybe he thinks that you think it's cool."

Flip.

Tape.

Tape.

"You just don't want to admit that he looks at you with bedroom eyes _all_ the time, twenty four hours a day, seven days a week."

Slam shut.

I look to the pretty blonde sitting on top of the checkout counter, her legs crossed, as she inspects her long, manicured fingernails. She tilts her head to the side in all seriousness as if contemplating the meaning her life, but out of the corner of my eye I glance to the male in question that she has been speaking of for the past hour.

He's sitting at a table near the window, but his chair _is_ just at the right position to glance over his pile of chemistry textbooks to look at the checkout counter where I'm currently prepping books to add to the library catalog. I can tell that he's fairly cute, red hair that is cut just so, but something about the way he carries himself just plain bothers me. However, unlike Bette claims, his green eyes aren't giving me a "bedroom eye" type stare, but something else altogether. But before I can identify what exactly, the blonde turns my attention back to her as she has switched from fingernail scrutiny to precision lipstick application and has somehow teleported from the checkout counter to the blue swivel chair behind me.

She shuts her compact mirror with a resounding click, "Y'know," she starts as if she is about to comment on the weather, "He isn't half as bad as the guys that you usually have falling for you." Her freshly coated lips are formed into a smirk.

"Bette," I say exasperatedly as I look at my best friend of too many years.

"What?" she exclaims raising her hands in the air as she spins in her chair, "It's true! You can't say that it's not! Most guys going after you are total weirdos! Like total cuckoos! I don't know how you can handle it all the time!" She exclaims, shivering in disgust.

"Sheesh, it's like you don't have any confidence in my guy skills whatsoever," I say, grabbing another book to cover.

"Well that's because I don't."

"Well no need to spare my pride now, is there?"

"No, there isn't" she says with a smirk, but her eyes are telling me that she's just kidding.

I quickly glance back at the red haired guy, swearing that Bette has got me totally paranoid.

Only I catch his staring at me, his eyes scrutinizing me over his textbooks just like Bette was just scrutinizing her fingernails, with calculated precision and searching for clear, cold, hard facts. Of course, while my blonde friend was searching for evidence that her manicure could possibly be too many shades in the wrong scarlet red, the male ginger was looking for something else entirely.

Then his cell phone rings.

_I'm bringing sexy back  
Them other fuckers don't know how to act  
Come let me make up for the things you lack  
'Cause you're burning up I gotta get it fast_

As his eyes quickly rip away from mine to answer his face turns red as he finally realizes that he's been caught like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar. He fumbles with his McDonald colored cellphone as he tries to muffle the sound. Meanwhile, Bette's ice blue eyes go wide for a second before her feature pull back into a familiar smirk and a raised brow, "Seriously lover boy? Real smooth."

Even I can barely hold back my laughter, my lips barely containing my giggles.

The guy quickly picks up his red backpack and can barely keep himself from running out the door as he brings the phone to his ear. The only thing I can hear before he finished exiting the door is his enraged shout of…ahem, a certain male body part.

Meanwhile, Bette Kane has erupted in uncontrollable laughter, after enough minutes pass, she catches her breath long enough to say, "I was wrong, definitely as weird as the usual guys that try to pick you up."

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**I know, I know, SHORT! BUT, it's like 1:00 in the morning and I've got HOMEWORK! XD Sorry y'all.**

**Hint: Review and favorites motivate me X)**


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